After
by flyawayturtledove
Summary: After the war, broken, Hermione receives a letter from her former prefect-friend Draco Malfoy. Can they rebuild the relationship they had back in year six? Back before everything went so horribly wrong? Can they delve deeper into the feelings behind the kiss they had shared in the corridor before Dumbledore died?
1. Chapter 1: The Letter

It was seven days after the final battle that she got a letter.

Her first move after she was sure Voldemort had gone was to alert the Relocator the Order of the Phoenix utilised to let him know that her parents could come home. Her parents' house was a little dusty, but otherwise ready for her to move in and wait for their return. She stayed in the house alone for two days while they travelled back to England.

It was surreal, meeting them at the airport. Such a normal activity. She knew that their memories had been returned but she still half expected them to ask who she was, since she had come to expect the absolute worst in the past few years. But seeing them was incredible and therapeutic and she couldn't wait to learn to relax again living in their house.

Hermione had desperately missed watching football games with her father and knitting with her mother while watching bad rom coms. She felt twelve again, living with them without responsibility; except for the fact that she couldn't relax. Her wand was always in her pocket or closeby on the coffee table. It was a result of the last months living on the run in a tent. Most likely, it would not be a dissipating habit anytime soon. She tried not to think about it, and her parents didn't ask about why she was so jumpy every time the microwave beeped or a gust of wind rattled the windows.

They didn't talk about anything that had happened this past year, in fact. It seemed they all wanted to move past it. Or, more probably, they sensed that Hermione didn't want to talk about it. They now knew that Hermione had sent them away with erased memories and they knew it was for a reason. Hermione hoped they would _never_ ask. She was finally starting to enjoy her life again and feel safe, even though she was hyper reactive and woke up with nightmares every night.

She hadn't had any contact with Harry or Ron, and she wasn't sure she wanted to just yet. Ron would be mourning with his family over the loss of his brother and Harry had disappeared immediately. Having no family to turn to, Hermione wondered where he was. She HAD sent an owl to him a few days ago to make sure he was okay, but the only response she wanted from him was one to ensure that he hadn't delved into a spiral of self hatred and depression. Non-magical time was essential for her right now.

So when she received an owl seven days after arriving back at her parents' house, she thought it would be Harry replying.

It was a sleek, tawny owl that knocked sharply at the window while she was reading a book on the sofa. Ducking quickly, she reached for her wand to defend herself against whatever had made the noise before she paused to remind herself that she was at her parents' house and nothing was there to hurt her. Voldemort was gone. Cautiously, she glanced over to the source of the noise to discover the owl, looking impatient outside the window.

She crossed the room and pulled the heat-swollen window open. The owl flew a circle around the room before landing on the back of a chair and making a click for food. The letter was the top priority, so she slid it open and out of the envelope as she made her way upstairs to see if there were any owl treats in her things.

Hermione,

I hope this letter finds you safe and back with your parents. My family has made it to some semblance of safety, should there be repercussions from the end of the war, we remain on high alert and in a constant state of movement. I sincerely hope the part of your life has ended in which you need to worry about such a lifestyle.

Mostly, though, things have settled down and priorities have become clearer without the constant threat of death. After what I've done to protect my family...you're my priority. I miss you and I miss what we had. It's been hell having no one to talk to this last year. I would like to meet up with you. I understand if you refuse, but if you don't, let me know a time and a place and I will be there.

-D

Hermione nearly dropped the letter and the owl treats. Draco.

Although she hadn't seen it herself, she'd assumed that Draco, Narcissa, and Lucius had fled after the battle at Hogwarts; not wishing to die and instead wishing to protect their family. It was wonderful to hear that he was safe.

She gave a handful of treats to the owl as her mind wandered over Draco Malfoy.

They'd build a relationship over being Prefects during fifth and sixth year. Many of their patrol times were together. Hermione, not being one for pettiness, had decided in her practical manner early on that they were going to have to learn to get along. As it turned out, Draco Malfoy was a person to whom it was fairly easy to chat. Their small talk began menially, over homework, but over time it became increasingly deeper, including their personal lives and daily trials. The Malfoy and Granger shed away to Draco and Hermione. But only during Prefect time did they act this way. When they were with their own Houses they took the culture of hatred back on board.

When Harry had begun suspecting Draco of being a Death Eater, Hermione was extremely reluctant to believe it. As it happened, she'd found out in a completely offhanded way: as he'd scratched his arm his robe had been pushed up past the Dark Mark while they were on patrol through the fifth floor corridors. She'd stopped cold as she'd seen the sinister tattoo on his forearm. At first he hadn't noticed that she'd stopped but when he realised what had happened he'd tried to gloss over it.

"Draco," she'd breathed.

"I had no choice," he'd explained quickly. "When the Dark Lord asks you to fulfill a task you don't refuse." His eyes, searching hers, had told her that the end of that sentence was 'unless you want your family killed'.

She'd felt immense sadness then. A grief and empathy she'd never known washed over her and she'd swiftly closed the gap between them to wrap her arms around him. For a second the thought had flitted across her mind that he'd gotten close to her to spy on Harry, but the idea had been quickly dismissed when she'd recognised the fear in his gaze.

Arms wrapped tightly around him and face so close to his body, Hermione had been overwhelmed by being so close to him. The clean, musky boy smell; the warmth of him. The connection that had immediately sent her tingling, even though the hug was not rooted in anything happy, which had made her feel guilty.

Clearly, nothing else needed to be communicated about the situation, and he had just wrapped his arms around her as well in the middle of the corridor, his forehead resting on the top of her head. His breathing had been deliberately slow and her heart thumped, wondering why. And after uncountable moments, he'd pulled away slightly, lifted her chin to his face, and kissed her soundly.

The tingly feeling of touching him had increased exponentially with that kiss and she'd been rocked to her core with want. But it hadn't lasted as long as she wanted and before she knew it, he'd pulled away.

They'd been left standing there, staring at each other; her lips slightly parted and, surely, her face flushed; arms still grasping one another. "I don't want you to live in fear," she'd half croaked, half whispered. She'd hoped that he could hear the sheer caring in her voice.

"I don't want you to live in fear of me," he'd responded. "I've done what I have to."

Shortly after that, Dumbledore had died and utter world-chaos had ensued. And now, this letter.

She wanted to see him, that much was certain. She hoped that his family still wasn't in danger - surely the hunt for ex-Death Eaters wasn't underway yet? Besides, Draco had played such an important part in helping them escape from Malfoy Manor under the thumb of Bellatrix and had showed compassion towards them even in the final battle. Even if he stood trial, as a minor, there would not be a serious punishment for him. Hermione knew that he, and his parents, for that matter, had merely done what they needed to do to keep their family safe. Hermione definitely couldn't fault anyone for that. Plus, the fact that, in his letter, he'd hoped she was reunited with her parents meant that he had somehow been keeping tabs on her, even through the war.

The tawny owl was looking impatient, so she grabbed a pen from her father's desk and composed a note on a piece of lined paper.

D,

I'm so glad to hear that you're safe. I'm back living with my parents and trying to learn how relax again and live a normal life. I'd forgotten how much I love to knit!

Removing the threat of death does tend to make one's priorities clearer...Outside King's Cross Station at 1.00 this Friday.

-H

The letter tied to the owl's leg, she released it out the window and hoped that it arrived in the next two days, or he would miss the Friday deadline.

Every cell of her body felt so alive in anticipation now. _But Ron_ , her brain reminded her. Yes, she'd kissed Ron basically while a war was going on around them. The awkwardness of a budding relationship had surrounded them for a while now, but Hermione hadn't allowed herself to give in to the selfishness of teenage relationships while there was literally a battle for the world occurring. And, while the thought of Ron was exciting to her, she honestly doubted that a relationship with Ron could sustain the intellectual depth that she would require. Ron was expected; Ron was familiar. Not that she was committing her brain to a relationship with Draco - she was curious to rekindle the friendship she'd had with him. It had been heartbreaking to get close to someone just to see them withdraw so quickly into a frightening position that they were taking on far too young. Not unlike what she'd seen happen to Harry.


	2. Chapter 2: Meeting

Had some great views for Chapter 1 :) Thanks for reading, I'd love some reviews for feedback!

Chapter Two: The Meeting

The nightmares didn't stop by Friday. Neither did the anxiety. But her parents still hadn't brought anything up.

Hermione Apparated to King's Cross Station at 12:49 with her heart nearly thumping out of her chest. She was wearing Muggle clothes and it was the first time in a year that she was worried about what she looked like. What ifs were running through her head at an alarming pace. What if he hadn't received the owl? What if he'd changed his mind? What if someone had recognised him as a Death Eater and sought revenge? What if the letter had been a coping mechanism for her recovering mind and it hadn't actually existed in the first place?

Incredibly, at 12:59. She saw a blond head gliding towards her. She was sure that her heart stopped. She tried to make her stance more attractive - standing slightly against the pillar with amazing posture.

The smile that he was clearly fighting spread across his face. "Granger," he greeted amicably.

Hermione didn't even know what to say but an insane grin broke out involuntarily and she threw her arms around him. He reciprocated the hug. Amidst the chaos of King's Cross Station, Hermione breathed in the scent of Draco Malfoy after a year of stress, destruction, and horror. The hug was a beat longer than a friend greeting a friend.

"Coffee?" she suggested.

"How about a beer?" he replied.

She chuckled. "Sounds good." Although, in the Muggle world, they were not allowed to drink, they found that the back alley bar they wandered into served them each a pint without any trouble. It was probably due to the facts that the bartender was too old to notice and that she and Draco both looked well beyond their years from the stress and grief from the war.

They didn't speak to each other until they found a table in the back and sat down across from each other; although they did stand quite close at the bar as they waited for their drinks. Their arms barely touched, but Hermione could feel the heat of his body through his button up shirt. Every nerve of her was alive and aware.

Once tucked away into their dark table, pints in hand, Hermione said, "It's good to see you, In fact, it's amazing to see you. I have to say; your letter was a huge surprise." She sipped her beer, torn between the idea of wanting to finish it quickly to stave her nerves and nursing it to keep her wits about her. She decided on the former.

"I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry," he said, drinking a large mouthful of beer. It appeared he'd made the same drinking decision as she had.

She was taken aback. "Sorry? For what?"

"Mostly for what happened with Bellatrix," he said.

A chill went through her and she subconsciously tugged at the sleeve hiding the _Mudblood_ carved tortuously into her arm by Bellatrix Lestrange. She looked down and drank half of her drink in one go. She didn't want to meet his eyes.

"I tried to do everything I could to get you out of there," he continued. "I didn't confirm it was Potter...I told my father it was best if you were all let go because that would keep _us_ safer...nothing worked. And then I heard your screams…" He trailed off as she willed tears to stop filling her eyes. Why did he have to bring this up? His voice sounded filled with regret as he said, "It took everything I had not to go and fight her myself. But I was a coward and was trying to protect any more shit from hitting my family."

"What's done is done, Draco," she replied after taking a deep breath to steady herself. "It's not anyone's fault except hers, and she's dead. You have no need to apologise. Protecting your family is not cowardice."

"And then the Room of Requirement," he continued his apology. "I know I didn't _cause_ that fire, but it was absolutely not according to plan. Ever since I saw you in Malfoy Manor, I'd been daydreaming about plans to help you and Potter whenever I managed to run into you again. Very clearly, that backfired and I ended up doing quite the opposite." He paused to consume some beer. "After the final battle, I fled with my family. The Dark Lord had contracted me to kill Dumbledore in the first place to punish my father, and I obviously could not refuse the task. Once my mother and Snape made an Unbreakable Vow so that Snape would kill Dumbledore if... _when..._ I couldn't complete the task, our top priority became protecting the family, so we did that at any cost, really."

He caught her eye and held eye contact. "But it's unlikely they'll forgive my father once again for being a Death Eater and my mother will stay with him, and rumour has it that underaged Death Eaters will be pardoned. I can't stay in hiding forever, not if I have a chance at having a normal life. My parents are working on new identities and a place to live, but if I don't have to worry about that, I don't want to. I don't want to hide in the shadow of their choices anymore."

His gaze was so intense that Hermione had to look away. He was clearly very sorry and clearly very determined. "That's admirable," was all she could think of to say. "Personally, I'd like to move past the last year as quickly as possible and focus on picking up the pieces of who I think Hermione wants to be."

"And who might that be?" Draco said with a wry smile, raising his drink to his lips. It was clear that he was trying to lighten conversation.

"Well for now it's someone living with her parents, knitting and reading," she replied. "But in a bit, I will need a job. I'm not sure as of yet how our not attending Hogwarts this past year will affect us-"

"Me neither," he interjected.

"But If they don't make us repeat the year, then I'd imagine it's off to the Ministry for me. Need to be in a position to make sure that a situation like this never happens again."

"Big dreamer Granger," he joked. "I do wonder whether McGonagall will make us go back to Hogwarts to finish. We haven't taken our NEWTs or anything."

"She'd be more likely to let me off," Hermione teased. "Considering I helped to stop the Dark Lord rising all year."

"Yes well, if she makes me go back, I'll be fighting to have you there as well," he quipped.

Hermione's heart skipped a beat at that remark, and she quickly finished her beer. "Another one?" she asked, her voice a bit too high.

"Absolutely," he said, holding up his empty glass towards her. Their hands touched as she took it from him. "I want to make this afternoon last as long as possible."

She went to get them another round and grasped the edge of the bar to steady herself. The tension between them was building, clearly, and she wasn't sure which direction this afternoon would go. She wasn't sure the direction she _wanted_ it to go. It was more wonderful to see him than she had thought it would be. Despite everything that had happened this past year, the energy between them hadn't dissipated.

When she returned to the table, drinks in hand, he was leaning back in his chair, his hands casually folded in his lap, his legs out and ankles crossed. It looked like, subtly, he'd moved his chair a little bit around the table towards hers. His casual pose didn't change as she handed him his drink. "I've been thinking on trying the Muggle world on for size for a while," he mused.

Hermione nearly spat out her drink. "Excuse me?"

"Well, the Wizarding world hasn't worked out for me so well as of late," he replied. "I've had to do a lot of mental unconditioning thanks to Father, and I think it might help my psyche if I spent some time doing the opposite of what I've been supposed to do all my life." He looked at her pointedly.

She chose to ignore the suggestion in that stare. "I can't see you living with Muggles."

"Oh I think I'd be great," he countered. "I could go to University, or get a job at an office, or host a television show."

"You'd be great at that last one," she agreed. "So charming."

He grinned at her as he downed his beer. He eyed hers. "C'mon, catch up Granger."

She resigned herself to the fact that she was going to get drunk. "I can't remember the last time I smiled this much," she admitted.

That made him smirk. "That drink'd better be back when I return." He got up to return to the bar. Hermione wasn't going to argue with him. Her brain was already fuzzy and she was enjoying it. It was time to finally relax. Maybe she wouldn't have nightmares tonight. She watched as he stood at the bar with such a casual attitude that you wouldn't think he had just been through months of traumatic shit. He sauntered back towards the table and Hermione tried to make it look like she hadn't just been staring at him. She felt the redness rising to her cheeks.

"I've been looking at flats," he said as he set down a glass in front of her. If he'd noticed her staring he didn't make any indication. "Father's tried to stop me from popping out, and I can't very well tell him I'm looking to move to Muggle London."

"Wow, so you're serious about this Mugglefication," she half-joked.

"Aren't you tempted to do the same thing?" he wondered. "Especially because you had no trouble in a Muggle life before you found out you were a witch. Don't you correlate being a Muggle with being untroubled?"

"It's true that I feel like the last seven years have aged me very quickly and quite considerably," she conceded. "But that's also solidified who I am. I know what I can do; I'm confident, and I'm the best damn problem solver out there. Plus, my Muggle years weren't that carefree."

Draco gave her a look that said _do tell_.

"Come _on_ Draco," tipsy Hermione pressed. "You were the first one at Hogwarts to make fun of my hair, but you definitely weren't the first in my life. Although, I must admit, you were the first to add _Mudblood_ to the mix."

She couldn't read the look on his face, then. It was a bit twisted; fighting between brushing over the comment and showing remorse.

"Besides," she continued, to get over the awkwardness and keep the conversation a bit lighter, "as a witch I'm one of the top three most famous living people in the world right now."

His twisted face turned into a chuckle. "Can't argue with that, Ms Granger." He held his glass up to _clink_ hers. "I for one am glad we've gotten past the shit."

"It's nice to relax," she sighed.

"Have you been hounded by any press?"

"I haven't really popped my head out of my hiding place, and no one seems to know where my parents live," she said thankfully. "I'm assuming as soon as I hit Diagon Alley it will all come my way."

"Potter's been in the Prophet plenty."

"Has he?" Hermione was surprised. "I honestly haven't had contact with him at all."

"Doesn't seem like he's giving up too much information, but they're mentioning him plenty. Although I'd assume most people are still partying at this point - partying that's been in the making for decades."

"Should we go check it out?" Hermione asked, halfway through her third pint. She was feeling giddy and daring and carefree. She was feeling like she wanted something truly fun to do. When was the last time she had actual fun? She was grinning at Draco, wondering what it would be like to go somewhere social with him. Somewhere where they needed to be undercover.

"I don't want to be spotted," he said tentatively.

"Then we'll go in disguise!"

He laughed. "Hell, why not."


End file.
